Training
by hoarfrosted
Summary: Interactions. While attempting to teach Arc a new skill, Ingus learns an important lesson himself.


The loud _clang_ of swords clashing rang throughout the forest clearing, sending a few skittish birds flapping away. The two sources of the din continued to spar diligently, until one of the blades flew from its owner's timid hand, embedding itself into the ground a few meters away.

"Once more, Master Arc," Ingus lowered his blade, patiently waiting for Arc to retrieve his weapon.

Arc frowned – nearly pouted – as he trudged over to his lost sword. After a bit of effort, he managed to free the sword from the dirt and turned to face his opponent once more, moving into a tense, novice stance with it held tightly in front of him.

"You must loosen up your posture, Master Arc," the blonde commanded softly, moving into his own significantly more practiced stance. "Are you ready?"

"No!" Arc squeaked out, grasping the hilt of the blade tighter. The blonde boy began to move, circling around the smaller boy predatorily. The piercing, focused look in his blue eyes did nothing to calm Arc's nerves and he held the sword closer to his body for the little protection that it offered. Ingus stilled his motions completely, reminding Arc of that whole "calm before the storm" saying, before propelling himself forward, poised for a horizontal slash.

Arc yelped and ducked, holding the sword above his in a feeble attempt at defense. It took that single strike to whip the weapon from the bookworm's hands, sending it flying to another side of the clearing. When he braved a look into Ingus's face, he saw a stern look. There was none of the disappointment and anger that typically came when Arc exhibited failure in a way only _he_ was able to.

"I don't think I can do this…" Arc muttered despondently, glaring harshly at his weapon as he went to retrieve it.

"You must, Master Arc," Ingus stalked up to him, _finally _lowering his blade. "Your extensive intellect will not always be the best offense against the opposition. In that instance, it will be necessary for you to be proficient in some form of physical combat," he held up his sword pointedly here.

The smaller boy sighed, shoulders slumping, making sure to keep his crestfallen gaze hidden from Ingus. It was common knowledge that Arc wasn't the most physically fit; he was the smallest of the chosen warriors, the most petit male of the group, and in no way did he strive to change any of these facts. He much preferred strengthening his mind to strengthening his body. The realm of mental augmentation was a much kinder host to him.

"But I wouldn't do any good on the frontline," Arc shook his head self-depreciatively. "If you guys had to depend on me protecting you, I don't think we'd make it out alive…" he finished lowly, dropping his stare to a random pebble on the ground.

Ingus let out a puff of air and the brunet was strangely afraid that the other boy would give up on him. "This training is not simply for learning an alternative form of battle, Master Arc." At Arc's puzzled gaze, he continued. "If there is ever the occasion that the rest of us are not able to battle…," Ingus hesitated here, and something in his bright blue eyes shined with sorrow, "if _I'm_ no longer able to protect you all, then you must be able to defend yourself."

Arc blinked curiously at the emotions swirling in the blond's irises, wanting desperately to ask but not wanting to pry. Ingus apparently sensed the bubbling questions and rubbed a hand through his shaggy hair, a pained noise spilling from his mouth. Arc wanted to apologize, though he didn't know what to apologize for.

"King Sasune…," Ingus started slowly, unsurely, "he took me into his kingdom, provided for me and cared for me as if I were his own flesh and blood. He made sure I was able to defend myself, the kingdom, and his daughter should the need ever arise."

Arc made to interject, uncertain as to what relevance the story had and not wanting to resurface any unpleasant memories, but Ingus continued on, his voice lowered to match his mood. "The opportunity to prove myself and…prove that his majesty did not waste his time on a whelp manifested in the form of that blackguard Djinn," Ingus's unarmed hand curled into a fist, making Arc take a covert step backwards.

"He cursed my entire kingdom and forced the princess to put herself in harm's way to rescue it," Ingus was more or less talking to himself at this point, his face imitating Arc's earlier self-deprecation. "I was honing my skills for exactly that purpose, but it was futile," he shook his head in frustration with himself, "I still failed them utterly."

Arc laid a hand on the taller boy's shoulder, giving him a faint smile when their gazes met. "You can't blame yourself for that, Ingus. There was no way you could have defeated him on your own. We all barely made it out alive with our combined effort!" he nodded. Ingus shook his head once more, sword clenched tightly in his hand. "If you tried to defeat him alone, there's no guarantee you would've come out alive, and I doubt the princess would be very happy with you then."

Ingus's head snapped up, making Arc's smile widen into a grin. "Trust me, we're all extremely grateful for having you to protect us, but don't forget that we're here to protect you as well. You don't ever have to worry about bearing such a large burden on your own. That's why we're all here for each other, after all!" he gave Ingus's shoulder a meaningful squeeze.

The blond regarded him silently for a moment, mulling over his words, before a matching grin broke out on Ingus's face. He rubbed the back of his neck somewhat sheepishly, "And to think I've been calling Luneth the fool all of this time." The brunet chuckled lightly, patting Ingus's shoulder before turning to head back to town, the grin on his facing curling slyly.

"Wait!" Ingus's voice called out, and Arc froze, knowing he was caught. His pout back full force, he glanced back to the other boy, who's face was set in stone again. Ingus held both of their swords in his hand, holding one out to Arc.

"Once more, Master Arc."


End file.
